


Truce

by htebazytook



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, First Time, M/M, Romance, Season 8, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 17:03:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1192935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/htebazytook/pseuds/htebazytook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel visits Dean again after leaving him in the crypt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truce

**Title:** Truce  
 **Author:** htebazytook  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Warnings:** none  
 **Spoilers:** through season 8  
 **Disclaimer:** *disclaims*  
 **Pairing:** Dean/Castiel  
 **Time Frame:** after 8.17 Goodbye Stranger  
 **Summary:** Castiel visits Dean again after leaving him in the crypt.

 

Dean is in his room, leafing through one of those big leather books with the title etched in gold. He skims over the text-choked pages and prays that something angel tablet-y will jump out at him, snug under the covers in sweats and a t-shirt and having a hard time paying attention to such stupidly elaborate sentences. Dean learns best on the job, because he usually has to. But as much as he hates studying he doesn't know what else to do because good old Cas has gone MIA. Again.

Dean sighs at the rustle of air. "You just stand around waiting til I think of you, don't you? So you can make your grand entrance?"

Cas doesn't respond. He steps into Dean's line of sight looking solemn.

Dean doesn't put the book down the whole way, just lowers it and levels his gaze at him. "How'd you find me here, Cas?"

"You prayed to me, before, thus transmitting your location."

"Sheesh. Knew there was a reason I never used to do it," Dean says, smiling a mean kind of smile but he can't keep it in check right now. He hadn't realized just how pissed he was before adding, "Yeah, I liked it better when I didn't think you dickbags even existed." 

It's just a tiny change in the knit of his eyebrows but all of a sudden Cas looks like he's choking to death on guilt. For a guy who's constantly deceiving Dean, it's crazy how fucking easy to read he can be. 

"I need to apologize to you again, Dean," Cas says. "For the attempted murder. I . . . 'owe you one'. Not another murder, uh . . . it's a poorly constructed idiom."

Dean sighs. "It's cool, I've been there, man."

"You have not been brainwashed by those who were intended to be your caretakers, as I was by Naomi."

Dean snorts. "No of course not, I'm the picture of mental health." He studies the gilded glint of the book in his hands, feeling the weight of it. "So you gonna tell me _why_ you don't trust me with the angel tablet, or . . . ?" Dean looks up at him, does his best wounded!Sam impression.

Cas blinks halfway into their staring contest. "It would be better if you were not involved in this. Please accept that, and let us move on."

Dean gets out of the bed and approaches him, trying very hard not to be to bitchy but it leaks into his voice: "I mean, what do you think I'm gonna do except for _get_ it to Kevin, where it _should_ be in the first place - "

"I can't. You would not understand."

"Try me."

Cas pauses, searching Dean's face and clearly getting impatient with what he finds there. "Dean, this is not your affair. Leave it alone."

"That ship sailed a long fucking time ago, buddy. And let's face it, you can't do this shit alone."

"Yes, I can. I have to."

"Yeah, 'cause that's worked out sooo well in the past . . . "

Cas sighs. "It's no use talking to you, sometimes."

Dean is so fed up that it's either punch him or smile and nod. He opts for the latter. "Right back atcha."

"I did what I came here to do. Now I have to - "

"Wait wait wait. Come on, man, just wait a sec." Dean takes a step forward on instinct. Now they're staring at each other again and Dean just - 

Well. Sam would say _Talk it out, just tell him how you're feeling, it doesn't make you a girl,_ but Dean doesn't give a shit about being a girl, and he'd be a kickass girl anyway. The truth is that _real_ feelings aren't the warm fuzzies that they always got advertised as. They're overwhelming, immobilizing, fucking cold. Like being outside in freezing weather. If you stay very still and brace yourself against it, nothing gets in, and it's hard to stop your teeth chattering sometimes if you go for that approach, yeah, but that's still better than letting the cold seep in and take you over. You try telling someone to just relax and embrace the hypothermia.

So no - no 'talking about feelings', for fuck's sake.

" _Look,_ " Dean says. "I just want to know why you don’t trust me."

"The time you almost said yes to Michael, that was a betrayal of trust."

"Okay but . . . "

Cas gives him a minute, but Dean hadn't had a counterargument. "Additionally, the time you - "

"Yeah I get the picture, okay? Doesn't mean I can't help _now_."

Cas steps closer, trying to intimidate Dean but Dean doesn't buy it anymore no matter that he'd beat him within an inch of his life a couple of hours ago. "I am asking you," Cas enunciates, " _not_ to."

"Screw that." 

Dean thinks Cas is going to hit him again.

Instead Cas kisses Dean into the wall, the barrel of one of the guns hanging up there digging into Dean's back. And Dean has never realized it before, but Cas is at perfect kissing height, isn't he? Not so short that Dean has to strain his neck like with most women. So Dean hums his approval into Cas's mouth because it's _such_ a nice mouth, worries Cas's plump upper lip between his teeth before sucking on it. 

"Truce for right now?" Dean mutters.

"Agreed." 

Dean's hands run possessively down Cas's back, pulling Cas's hips flush with his own and kneading the flesh of his ass. Dean grinds into him and Cas gasps. 

_God_ , Dean is obsessed with having him like this, fucking breathless with it. He sucks on Cas's neck, plants kisses up the side to his ear and nips at the lobe before saying, "Let me fuck you, Cas."

Cas shivers, like he actually knows what Dean is talking about and that in itself is hot as hell. He takes a reluctant step back to shrug out of his trenchcoat, doesn't miss a beat before getting to work on the rest of his clothes. Unnaturally quick fingers across the buttons of his shirt, hand bumping into his dick as he takes off his pants and Dean can see Cas's eyes flutter at the contact. 

If there's anything that Dean understands, it's sex. He's especially grateful for this right now because lust is like a decoder ring for the generalized dispassionate disorder of Castiel, Angel of the Lord, who is reduced now to nothing more than a needy human body that Dean _knew_ how to satisfy.

Cas is glaringly naked. His shoulders and hips, details in his eyes, hard on because of Dean. "I believe you must also disrobe."

Dean smirks. "Oh, you little slut."

Cas doesn't get it, and when he starts pulling Dean's T-shirt up Dean can't think of further smartass remarks. Dean just takes his sweatpants off, lifts his arms so Cas can pull his shirt over his head.

"How do you want me, Dean?" Cas's expression is so open as he asks that Dean feels dirty just for looking at him.

Dean lies back on the bed to reach the secret compartment the Men of Letters had so thoughtfully installed behind the headboard. "Come here," he says, meaning for Cas to lie down next to him but Cas instead elects to straddle Dean's waist, guiding the head of Dean's cock to his entrance and impaling himself on it easy as sin.

" _Cas_ ," Dean gasps, because it's tight and hot and miraculously slick. "Ugh, I take it all back, angels are _awesome_ . . . "

Cas lifts up, bears down, drives Dean out of his mind. Dean is awash in sensation, feeling drugged and unable to do anything but keep on watching Cas obsessively, watches his cock disappearing inside of him and drowns. Once the rhythm stops being enough and Dean starts itching for more he grips Cas's hips and thrusts up a little in counterpoint. 

Cas's eyes darken. The next time Dean does it he gasps and bows his head, fingers twisting in the covers. Dean keeps doing that until Cas falls forward on his forearms with eyes shut tight and half formed pleas dying on his lips that run over each other in confusion until he settles for, "More" and "Dean" with every thrust. Dean grips his hips punishingly, now, has to fuck Cas harder and his vision blurs with the pure pleasure of it. 

Cas gives up on speaking, looking perfectly pornographic as he leans over Dean with his mouth hanging open and brow furrowed and face stained pink. Dean flips them over, somehow managing to keep his cock buried inside of Cas the whole time. Cas's eyes fly open and roll back when Dean pounds into him again, faster and, fuck, _deliciously_ deeper while Cas keens and clutches Dean's arms. Cas's harsh breathing in Dean's ear, his welcoming body and the intoxicating scent of arousal and sweat. Dean gives a few more rapid-fire thrusts until he's coming.

He lets the lurch of orgasm overtake him, happily drunk on it but determined to get Cas off before he completely passes out. He pulls his cock out, now so coated in come that some of it drips out of Cas's hole and _that's_ almost enough to get Dean hard again.

Dean shoves two fingers into Cas, starts fucking him with a little more precision and Cas arcs his back and groans. Dean's not sure if Cas has even noticed he doesn't have Dean's cock inside of him anymore.

Dean uses his other hand to jerk Cas off, timing his movements with the fingers pistoning in and out of him, speeding with Cas's cries until he comes all over his pale stomach and Dean's bed.

Dean sits up, watches Cas's chest heave as he comes down from it. He feels like a bit of a creeper but on the other hand Cas deserves it for all the times he's watched over Dean in his sleep. Dean pulls up the edge of the covers to wipe the mess away and Cas's eyes find his lazily.

He sits up and Dean kisses him, but when it breaks Cas is abruptly fully clothed again and making to get off the bed.

"Wait." Dean's got a hold of his trenchcoat, having trouble focusing above the hum of endorphins but even more potent than that is the way he just wants Cas to stay without all the bullshit that always built up between them.

Cas sighs. "They're looking for me," he points out. "Heaven is."

"When aren't they? And hey, I've been there, too."

"I almost killed you, Dean. It's the least I can do to attempt to prevent it from happening, again. So find the rest of the demon tablet, and do your work. I'll do mine."

"No, no see that's not fair," Dean says. "You can't tell me it's for my own protection and think I'll just leave it alone. What about protecting _you_? Who's gonna do that?"

"I can take care of myself."

Dean's instinct is to argue, keep going in circles with him until Cas just gives in, but Cas's hand is cupping Dean's face, now, and the drawn out kiss is somehow just as dazzling as the sex had been.

Dean turns his head away from how good it feels. "Yeah, you better go."

He's gone when Dean looks up.

*


End file.
